There were 4
by Shrewloo
Summary: (This is my first fan-fiction. But that doesn't mean it's bad.) This story contains my own way of how the group members; Bill, Francis, Louis and Zoey met, but it mostly focuses on Zoey. Please R&R!


"No! She spends all of her damn time watching...zombies! I'm tired of it, Wade."

"Carolyn, let her live her own life. You always fuss over her grades. Who knows, maybe watching horror movies will teach her a few extra things about life."

Just then, Zoey came down. She stretched her arms, yawning. "Dad, I just finished season two of the 'Boy who cried Zombie' and it's amazing!"

Wade, her father, grinned towards Carolyn, who only sighed in dismay. "Zoey. I've seen your grades and I think they are dropping. I am very disappointed. I expect to see A's from such a smart girl like you! Instead I see F's or D's. Can you explain that?"

Zoey glared at her mother. "You're always disappointed in me. Fine, I swear I'll pay more attention to my grades. Anyway-" She looked to her father. "-you promised to show me how to use a Hunting rifle! You didn't lie, did you?"

"Of course not! I have it right here." He grabbed the hunting rifle that had been set along the kitchen counter and held open the door. Excited, Zoey rushed out the door, ignoring her mothers sigh.

_Boom! Boom!_

"Whoa! Zoey! Hold! You're aim is tilted. Lift you're chin higher-yes-now the gun a bit lower-perfect! Now, pretend you're shooting a zombie."

Zoey wrapped her finger around the trigger, one eye squinted to give the other a better view through the scope. She pulled back quickly, seemingly sending the bullet straight through the target.

Her father chuckled. "If that was a zombie you probably would have blown it's head sky high."

"Uh-huh. But what if a whole horde came at me? A hunting rifle in that type of sitution would be useless, wouldn't it?"

Her father grinned. "Ah, but it takes longer to reload then it does to switch to a pistol, does it not?"

Zoey frowned. "And how do you suppose I'd have a pistol with me?"

Wade dug into his pocket before pulling his hand out again, only to be gripping a Magnum pistol in his fingers. "Here. An early birthday present, I suppose." He tossed it to her, though she only stared at it. "Thanks, dad! But...mom said I can't have a gun yet."

"If I say so, then you can." Her father replied before motioning her towards the house again. "Alright, let's get back inside. It's freezin' out here. Besides, I only have one more ammo set, and I plan on using that to go huntin' with my buddies."

Zoey started towards the house. "Okay. But I want to do this soon-and when we do-you should take me hunting with you!"

Her father laughed. "We'll have to see about that, Zoey. I don't think you're that good."

Zoey shoved him. "I'm probably better then you!"

He stumbled a bit. "Now then, who just taught you how to shoot the Rifle in the first place?"

Zoey giggled before opening the door to their house; only to see that her mother was being attack by a...zombie? _"Wade! Help me!" _Carolyn screamed, as the zombie now launched it's pointed fangs deep into her neck. Wade grabbed his shotgun he had hunched against the door and shot the infected, nearly missing his perfect aim."Zoey!" He shouted. "Call an ambulance-now!"

Obeying, Zoey rushed towards the phone and dialed the appropriate numbers. After moments of waiting it seemed no one would take up her call, so throwing down the phone she returned to the room, screaming at this new sight. "Dad!" She screamed, realizing too late what a mistake that was. The newly born zombie lunged towards her, only to crumple to the ground a send after from a deep bullet now lodged in her skull. Zoey dropped to her knees beside her father, pinching herself to avoid tears. "Please tell me y-your immune..."

"I'm not immune, Zoey. I'm sorry." Her father replied quietly.

"Dad. There's gotta be something...medicine...maybe-"

"I want you to shoot me." Her father interrupted her.

"_What?_ I can't shoot you!"

"Zoey." Her father grimaced. "Do it. Do it for me. I don't want to change."

Zoey sniffed, grabbing her pistol. "I love you, dad." She whimpered, before releasing her relucant grip on the trigger. Slowly rising to her feet, she grabbed the Rifle her father had dropped on the floor before making her way towards the door, which had been destroyed, preferably by the zombie that managed to get inside. Before gribbing the knob on the door, she hesitantly turned to look at her father's body one last time.


End file.
